Leather and Lace
by Olivia Crane
Summary: One-shot. My version of the story if Jo Harvelle had lived. What would it take for Jo and Dean to be together? Even if Jo were engaged to someone else? Involves a wedding dress, advice from Sam, and copious amounts of whiskey.


_This idea wouldn't go away, so I had to write it. I always figured that Dean would have ended up with Jo if she'd lived. This is my take on how they'd have gotten together._

Jo Harvelle sat with her head in her hands on the slat board steps of an old community church, her white dress puffed all around her, mocking her with its froths of spritely pick-ups and lace detail. The corset bodice constricted her breathing, and a half-drunk bottle of Glenlivet sat on the step next to her.

She traced the wood grain of the step with her finger, wondering what was going on inside the church at that moment. She imagined the gossipy church ladies dividing up unneeded cocktail franks and finger sandwiches in the reception area.

_"That Jo Harvelle has always been a funny one." _

_"No need for all this food to go to waste…" _

_"Do you think that Tommy would like my grand-niece Clara? She lives a county over and is an RN."_

Tommy had already left. Jo knew that much. She'd watched him speed away in his battered pick-up after she'd told him that she didn't want to get married anymore.

She'd felt guilty at the relief that swelled in her chest as Tommy and his red truck vanished past a curve in the road. She was guiltier still, about how her heart raced when she spotted the familiar jetty sheen of the Winchester Impala as it lithely glided down the highway and into the small church parking lot.

Sam Winchester stretched his long legs out of the driver's side door, and quickly made his way over to the hunched over figure in white.

"Hey, Jo." He greeted lamely, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. "So, this was the big emergency?"

She nodded, miserably. "I couldn't go through with it. Not when…I mean, I…thank you for not bringing Dean. Not sure I could have handled the jokes about this dress or this stupid fucking veil." She ripped the yards of flowing sheer netting off of her elaborately curled updo. The smells of whiskey and cheap hairspray assaulted Sam's nostrils as he took a seat next to her.

"Yeah, he stayed at the motel. Was hard to get out of there without him, though."

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Jo asked.

"He only knew that you needed my help. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to stay behind. But I get it." Sam gestured to their surroundings. "Wedding of Tommy Linden and Joanna Harvelle" was written on the church marquee. "Never thought I'd see Jo Harvelle in a wedding dress."

"Thanks." Jo sniffed, and wiped remnants of tears with the backs of her hands.

"I didn't mean it_ that_ way." Sam quickly backtracked. "You know what I mean."

"Why did you think I'd never get married? Because I'm a hunter? Hunters get married, Sam."

"Yeah." Sam allowed. "But Tommy wasn't the right hunter, was he?"

"No. He wasn't the right hunter." Jo said. "And I couldn't make him right, no matter how much I pretended. And I…I hurt him, Sam." Jo started crying again. "He's a good man, and he _trusted_ me, and I…I _hurt_ him."

Sam dabbed at Jo's face with one of her Kleenex. "Don't cry. It'll be okay, Jo. Better now than later, right? It just wasn't meant to be."

"I knew that! And I tried to force it and force it because he was a nice guy and mom kept pushing for grandkids and then Tommy proposed and it just all got so messed up so fast! I don't want it. I don't want any of it!" She collapsed into heavy sobs, and Sam held her to his chest. "I'm a freak, Sam. Everything that a normal person could want is right in front of me and I don't want anything to do with it."

"You're not a freak." Sam stroked her hair, comfortingly. He almost wished that it had been Dean who'd been called to deal with this. Then again, he reasoned, Jo was probably right about Dean making jokes. Haphazard sarcastic remarks were his brother's go-to for dealing with emotional or awkward situations.

"I am." Jo argued, muffled against the now moist flannel that had once been Sam's clean (not to mention dry) shirt. "And it doesn't even bother me anymore. I'm a terrible person, Sam. I'm not sorry. I'm relieved. I feel so much better now that the wedding is off."

"You shouldn't have gone through with it if you felt that way. You did the right thing."

"Everyone is gonna hate me." She added, morosely. "And mom paid for everything already, and…"

"Don't worry about all that." Sam said. "That doesn't matter. But, if it's not too personal, what did you tell your fiancé? About why you canceled?"

"I told him that I wasn't in love with him. That I was in love with someone else." Jo took a long sip from the bottle of whiskey.

"Uh-huh." Sam said, slowly. "So…this someone. Do I know him?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"No, I'm serious. You like the guy enough to call off your wedding, and you won't take a chance with him?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"How do you know that he wouldn't feel the same way? That he doesn't hum your favorite songs, or say your name in his sleep?"

"He…wait. We are talking about Dean here, aren't we?"

Sam nodded. "Look, I know you two think that nothing can work out between you. But you made it through the end of the world together. And Eve. And the Leviathans."

Jo nodded, miserably. "But he thinks of me like a little sister, Sam. He would never…" her voice trailed off and she blew her nose, loudly.

"Just come with me." Sam said, softly. "You'll never know if you never try, right?"

Jo nodded again, and Sam helped her to her feet. She swayed a little, unsure if it was from the whiskey, the stress, the tightness of her dress, or a combination of all three.

"Yeah, I guess I have to try." She mumbled tearfully, as Sam led her toward the Impala.

_Well, what did you think? Review, please!_


End file.
